I will gladly, any day of the week, spend 30 minutes in the aisles of a drugstore, sneakily opening shampoo bottles to get a whiff, trying to wipe the shampoo off my face after I’ve inadvertently snorted some onto my nose.
I’m spending a small fortune on my personal appearance.
None of my jobs pay me well enough to support an emotionally fueled makeup addiction.
I don’t really buy much online, though I always intend to start. It’s on my mental to-do list of things I should do to save money, like doing my own laundry instead of dropping it off, or cooking every single meal at home. Everyone I know swears by it. “You don’t have to go to the store! You don’t have to deal!” they say as they open boxes full of new things from the comfort of their own home.